Valentine's Blues
by vampirisms
Summary: Arnold has a case of the "Valentine's Blues" as P.S. 118 share their last year and very last Valentine's Day together. Is there anything that can shake Arnold out of his blues?
1. Chapter 1

Valentine's Blues (A Hey Arnold Fan Fiction - Ch.1)

_ Notice: This fic takes place sometime between the FTi incident and now. Information may be semi-AU or not fit completely, based on my preferences or an easier "go-with-the-flow" storyline. With that being said, I still always aim to make my stories as canon as possible, or the very least to my standards. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Now, now - _CLASS_…"

As the school room filled with excitable chatter, Mr. Simmons tried to maintain his importance throughout it all - the large swarms of elementary school children leaning forward in their desks, as he discussed the upcoming Valentine's Day dance meant to wrap up their very last year at P.S. 118, knowing they would be all too excited, battling the anxious, yet strangely prideful fluttering in his stomach upon the sentimental realization that this would be his very last year teaching everyone.

"Class, everyone! Now I know we're very excited for tonight's dance, but let's not forget the importance of _slowing _down to smell the roses, or oh, say - the _snowflakes_, since it's currently a little blustery outside," There was a light chuckle, until… "OH, who am I kidding? Class is dismissed early, kids! Everyone have a wonderful evening, and don't forget to pick up your valentine's on the way out. Wouldn't want to forget _those_…"

"Yeah, yeah…ya-de-ya-de. _Valentine's_…sure, right. Looking into MY box is like gazing into the bottom of an empty PRINGLES can." There was nearly always an almost inaudible muttering at the end of each day, Arnold had noticed, that was Helga G. Pataki, as she marched to the doorway, her voice, however, loud enough to just barely make it to his ears, sure that he could have easily heard past it, if he weren't the second to last one out the door, observing how it was almost like…almost like she were _talking_ to herself, but hoping someone would _acknowledge_ that she was in the room. Arnold, regrettably, had never even really _noticed_ this, consciously, until the beginning of the year…shortly after-

"Move-_IT_-"

With gritted teeth, mind bubble popping like a firm balloon, Helga Pataki was simply standing right behind Arnold Shortman, as if waiting in line, almost resemblant to the way Brainy did, excluding any sensations of her breathing down his neck.

"What are you _DEAF_?"

There was a hard silence, Arnold's heart thumping at a noticeable pace, as he tried to shrug off any uncomfortable feelings she had been attempting to instill within him. This was _Helga_, and the last thing he needed was to admit to himself that she could be a little intimidating, to say the least…not Helga persay, but her proximity, rather, after their last encounter.

It had been 4 months…_4 months _since Helga had spilled her guts out to him, and even though they had brushed it off like it were an accident, Arnold had a hard time looking at her the same again. Deep down, he was just a little…freaked out, to be honest.

1….

2….

3…

Seconds passed, until…

_WHAM!_

And with a kick to his backside, he had hit the floor, hands extending, as valentine's from his collected box flew everywhere.

_Everything…yet nothing had changed…_

An involuntary groan, and Arnold was rubbing the side of his head, feeling humiliated for letting it happen, again. That is, things _escalating _with Helga, her usual cackle and sneer as she abandoned him beneath the door frame.

"See ya later, _sucker_."

Frowning, Arnold had to wonder…_Why did he have to freeze up like that, anytime he saw Helga's assaults coming? Wasn't he used to it by now? Would it just always remain the same? Helga, getting away with everything she did?_

There was a sigh, until Gerald appeared, as if a knight in red hooded armor, always seeming to pop up at just the right moment…or the _worst_ one, depending on how you looked at it.

"_Aaar-nold_, you know I love you man, but WHEN are you gonna STAND UP to the MAN? I hate seeing you push over to her like this. _I oughta…oughta-_"

Raising a hand in defense, there was a harmless shake of blonde hair. "It's alright, Gerald. Really, i'm fine." _He_ wasn't the one who saw Helga that summer ago, after all. It was _he_ who had to live with that burden, not Gerald. "It only makes her-"

"-look bad. _I know, I know._ I've heard it a hundred times…" A red sleeve wrapped around the boy's shoulder, as his best friend pulled him in, so they were now shoulder to shoulder. "C'mon man, let's get out of here and talk about somethin' else."

"_Slausen's?_" Arnold would smile at his invitation.

"Slausen's, and then it's game on!"

Arnold frowned however, knowing what that implied. "You going with Phoebe?"

"I'm sorry, Arnold! Hey, it's not like you don't have time to ask anyone! What about Ruth or Lila or, or-"

"No, it's okay. You know what Gerald? I think I may actually head straight home…thinking of taking a nap, or maybe just forgetting the dance all together."

Besides, Ruth was graduated already by now, and Lila was only a friend. Arnold had gotten over her a while ago, and Gerald knew this. He couldn't blame his friend, getting excited and going desperate measures. After a pitiful silence, Gerald spoke up once more.

"A nap huh? Are you…_sure _Arnold? I mean _sure-sure_?"

"Yeah, i'm sure…" Forcing a small smile to convince his friend, Arnold began going his separate way.

"Maybe you do need a nap." He smiled, and then Arnold smiled back, waving goodbye, only to hide the indifference on his face as he turned the corner, a distinct look of apathy there, as his eyelids draped down halfway, displaying a new expression.

_Man, they sure do spend a lot of time together…_

Losing Gerald to Phoebe had been hard for Arnold, who had been feeling especially isolated lately, another sigh escaping him. He missed his best friend. The funny thing was though, he knew that if he told him, he would happily cancel plans. He supposed, deep down, that was about the worst part of it all…

Arms stretching out wide, Arnold let his lithe frame collapse onto his bed, as he entered his room in the boarder house, rolling to his side only to set an alarm for an hour or so before the dance, in case he decided to show up.

And before he knew it, there was his alarm, going _"Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold!" _signifying it was already time to hop back to reality.

_MEANWHILE…_

_Gosh, i'm so stupid, so hopelessly deranged, so horrible to that football head. How could I do something like that to the guy on Valentine's Day? What's wrong with you, Helga? Miriam must have had something slipped into her drink before I was born, for cryin' out loud! What did I DO?_

Arms flailing out in every direction of the bed in desperation, as Helga lie in her adolescent bedroom, nearly kicking the covers right off and onto the floor, fists clenched, as tears were nearly welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"How dare I…must I…" An emotional sigh, turning into a scowl, however, as the young girl was interrupted.

"HELGA, how many times do I have to tell you not to lock this door!?" There was a loud rattling coming from the other side of the room, growing increasingly more aggressive, until Helga's face had no other option but to go deadpan.

"Well jeez, he actually got my name right, the one time I don't want to be noticed…nice goin', Bob…"

Feet hitting to the floor lazily, Helga gets up like a zombie, slumping herself to the door. "_Cripes_, it's not my fault these doors are busted! Weren't you or Miriam supposed to call that one in or fix these or somethin' - OUCH!"

With some rattling of her own, the door finally busts open, Helga nearly pinching herself, on who knows what, as it swings open full force, just barely missing her head.

"I don't know, but things are going to start changing around here, young lady…" Bob walks into the room like a 'friggin' dictator', for lack of a better word from Helga, noseying around the entire room.

"Yeah, okay Hitler." She rolls her eyes, as he begins popping open draws and scrummaging, eventually swinging open the closet door too, causing Helga's eyes to pop open wide. "Hey, what gives!?"

"HELGA, what is this mess!? Rotten watermelon? You better clean this up pronto! I'm looking for the remote to the TV! Thought you might have been hidin' it up here."

"Dad, since when do I watch TV?" A whine, only ever emitted in the company of her parents, or when she was in the presence of something really scary, such as a sewer rat, suddenly vocalizing across the room. She couldn't help it - Big Bob and Miriam were irritating!

"And for your information, BOB, I don't have it! I'm getting ready for a dance, actually, so if you would just EXCUSE yourself this way, _rrrrrgh!_" With all of her force, Helga tried pushing him back out the door, only causing him to turn and growl in more anger, harmlessly swinging at her pink bow. "You gotta go, dad, and you gotta go _now_! I don't have much time to get ready and impress Arrrr, uh-uh _artichokes_!"

_Artichokes! That was a good one! Why didn't I ever relay that code name to Phoebe?_

And before she knew it, all she could hear was her dad's mumbling about nut jobs, before something came crashing down abruptly, hitting her dead in the face, like your typical _Helga G. Pataki _epiphany.

"WAIT a minute - did I just say impress Arnold? No, I can't do that! Not after that stupid confession! He knows WAY too much. I can't have the spotlight on me. That would just overwhelm us both! I gotta come up with a plan! Something solid…something…"

Eyes widening, scanning the room, stopped at the stand in closet, where all of Helga's different outfits were kept, gasping to herself. This included _disguises, _of course.

"Phoebe?"

A squeak emitted from the other line, indicating her best friend and trusty sidekick had picked up.

"Keep your eyes peeled, because tonight _Cecile_ is making an entrance at the Valentine's Day Dance."

There was a smirk, and that was it, before Helga Pataki hung up the phone, leaving her friend to piece out the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Valentine's Blues (A Hey Arnold Fan Fiction - Ch. 2)

"Across, through the loop, a little adjusting, a little tug AAAND - _perfect!_"

Despite his previous Valentine blues, Arnold now had a patient, almost smug little smile on his face, upon looking back at his reflection in the mirror, holding onto his tie as confidently as he could, before reaching up to graze his fingers through the ends of his cornflower hair like they were a comb, making sure it stood up straight. He was proud of himself for remembering the way Gerald had taught him to to tie a tie last summer, unlike his cooky grandfather, who he appreciated more than anyone, but who was also just a little too old to remember things like tying a tie.

"Maybe Gerald was right and…all I needed was that nap."

_Maybe tonight there will even be someone as dateless as I am. Yeah, that's the spirit._

_Meanwhile…_

With Helga's phone buzzing uncontrollably, nearly vibrating off the end of her bed, she was getting ready as quickly as possible. Of course she was lucky to have a dad who ran beepers, but God were they LOUD when they wanted to be, just beeping all over the place.

"Gee whiz, Phoebe, just a _second!"_

_Doesn't she know that i'm getting ready? The words 'Arnold' and 'dance' didn't register in her little miss smarty pants brain?_

In spite of everything however, Helga answers nonchalantly, resting her Bob's Beepers cell phone between her ear and her shoulder. She was in a pretty decent mood after all, despite the slow burn of nervousness that she had grown accustom to when it came to Arnold related things. "Helga _G._ Pataki."_ Always, always_ professional…

Putting her multi-tasking skills to work, she yanks a collection of hanging dresses all to one side, nearly stepping inside of her stand in closet that's filled with pink to the rim, until she finally finds the one perfect dress she's looking for, reserved all the way in the back. "_Aha!_ Yeah, you were saying Phoebe?"

Cheap brush dipping into her semi-stale mascara, getting to the good stuff at the bottom of the half-way goopy bottle, she begins to doll up her eyelashes, listening intently. "Uh-huh…oh, criminey! Phoebe, do you have any high-heeled shoes that I could borrow? I just…for some reason, I just can't seem to find my other heel!"

_Meanwhile, on the other line…_

"I will be there in exactly 1 minute and roughly 30 seconds, Helga. Already fully prepared and on my way. Remember the last time you dressed as Cecile? Well if I remembered correctly, I recall you reporting that you lost one of your heels that exact night you wore them, and well…since then I've been keeping an extra pair under my bed, just in case. That's precisely what i've been trying to tell you this entire time. So sorry for all of the phone calls, I just _HAD_ to reach you, you see…"

"Oh, wow." Phoebe really was impressive. How _did_ she do it? Well, there was no time to question that. However, at the end of the other line, she could somehow hear her friend smile before saying, "I know you would do the same if it were me in similar circumstances with Gerald…not that I would ever _land_ in said circumstances _myself_, but well…you get what I mean. It's the very _least _I could do Helga."

_Did I really leave my shoe behind that night?_

Helga's memory, suddenly coming up foggy as she pondered this question. She was feeling so many emotions that night, that she had forgotten how she had even gotten home all on her own in the dark, probably wanting to head straight back before Arnoldo noticed anything too characteristic of the girl behind the mask.

"Phoebe, you really are too good to me. Just come on in, okay? Bob is watching TV downstairs and Miriam is passed out."

Smiling to herself, she hit the 'end call' button. She was actually pretty excited to see Phoebe, and even go to the dance together. Sure, Geraldo was still a total _geek_, but he wasn't half bad for Phoebe she supposed. As long as he didn't mean _funny_ business! Everyone knew that they would be talking to ol' Betsy if that were ever the case.

Hearing a light 3 knocks on her parents door down below, despite her insisting that Phoebe just barge right in, she knew that was indicative of her friend's arrival, which meant soon, very _soon_, _Cecile_ would be making her way to P.S. 118.

_BACK AT THE DANCE_

"See, Arnold? This ain't so bad." An optimistic Gerald chimed in, as he and his best friend leaned beside the punch bowl. "They've even got your man playin'-"

"_Dino Spumoni_." They both said in unison. "Yeah, you're right Gerald. I don't know what I was thinking, moping around back there. There's more to dances than just…girls, I guess. Take this punch bowl, for instance. It's not entirely bad once you get past the tartness…it's actually, actually pretty good for-"

"Couldn't help but overhear you enjoying that punch, _Arnold, __Gerald_? I'm happy you like it! It's homemade, straight from Sheena's kitchen! Gee, we must have spent about an entire _hour _making it the other night, isn't that right Sheena?"

"Oh, yes!" The hippie-looking girl replied just about as squeakily as Eugene, only more relaxed, her usual content smile on her face, before nodding and grabbing another refill of punch.

"You were _saying_ Arnold?" Gerald had a look of amusement on his face, as Arnold sheepishly tugged at his collar, laughing unhumorously, a bit nervous now about tasting Eugene's punch, despite having decided long ago that him being a _'jinx'_ was just all in his head.

"Yeah, right." Arnold only smirked, his eyelids suddenly drooping over his eyes, the way they always did, drifting off to the sound of Dino Spumoni's music. Before he knew it, he was off in his own world, the chatter of the children around him simply fading away as he melted into a putty of relaxation. The entire room felt like a boat, rocking back and forth in a gentle swing, as Arnold's creative mind processed the tune filling up the auditorium, each musical note causing him to drift away farther.

That is, until…

"C-_Cecile?_"

From the corner of his eye, he could have sworn-

"Hey, ARNOLD. _Hey Arnold!_"

"Huh?" His head whipped around for a moment, confused. As Gerald was speaking to him, he could have sworn he had heard Harvey the postman speaking in his low, mature tone. "_Hey Arnold, you still got those Valentine's Blues?_" He had heard the voice say, before snapping right back out of it, and once again hopping back to reality, a very concerned looking Gerald staring at him.

"Cecile? Who's Cecile? You mean that pen-pal from France from a couple years ago? The one I took to get hamburgers?"

"Yeah! Wait, yes, but n-no. I saw her, _right_ there Gerald!" He exclaimed, pointing to where the blur of pink had flashed before him. "But not _Cecile-Cecile_…Cecile! The _other_ Cecile! I mean…it's confusing."

"ARNOLD, snap _outta' _it. What would Cecile be doing here, on Valentine's day? We live in _America_, remember? And say _what?_" He exclaimed, simply worried for his pal. He couldn't explain how much it really _freaked_ him out when Arnold pulled stuff like this. It was like, inside _his_ head it made sense, but on the outside it didn't look good at all.

"Gerald, I can't explain it any better than you can. I was drinking Eugene's punch, just listening to Dino's music, and the whole room got all…weird, and-and-"

"Whatever you say, Arnold…whatever you say. Hey, i'm gonna go grab a slice of one of those cakes and bring it over to Phoebe. She likes the lemon meringue best. You gonna be alright? Maybe lay off that punch for a while…" Gerald couldn't help but snicker, wondering how anyone would let Eugene participate in making the punch for the whole grade to begin with.

Meanwhile, Arnold was still trying to piece things together. _Phoebe? Since when did Phoebe walk in here? Didn't she always come in with…Helga? _Just her name alone,causing an almost involuntary _shutter_ to wash over Arnold. Thinking of Helga was still, well…a little awkward, just like it had been running into her the other day.

It was strange though, that Phoebe would walk in all alone. She wasn't exactly the type to walk or ride all the way to school by herself. And yet he had just seen her, stepping through the entrance way alone. Or was that the same time he saw _Cecile_ walk in?

Arnold blinked a few times, rubbing his forehead as if to correct his thought pattern, only even more confused than before. _Well, it wasn't exactly his business anyway…and Phoebe would be okay now that she had Gerald to escort her. _He had always had this habit of watching over others, making sure that they were getting along okay.

With a sigh, he stared down at his cup of punch, watching his funny, semi-distorted reflection before tossing it into the nearest garbage hiding underneath one of the impressively set up tables of snacks. He had to admit, this year the decorations were looking much better than the last. It was almost like the place was set up to take place in France or something, with all of the Paree related designs.

Just then, it was nearby that he heard Rhonda Wellington speaking to Nadine and Peapod kid, a look of satisfaction on her face. "I stayed up _ALL_ night, just designing this entire area. I would say it's the best dance to date, since the most popular girl designed it."

At that, Nadine nodded, half-smiling, half-smirking to herself, just happy that Rhonda seemed to be placing her energy into something creative. A moment later, they all threw their heads back and laughed dramatically. "Quite impressive, miss Wellington…quite impressive." Said Peapod kid.

_Well, I guess this was it._ Without a date, he would just stand here and observe, watching everything and everyone around him as he often tended to do, just letting the evening unravel, allowing himself to space out just a little bit, all the while the lights turned down low, only a small flicker appearing.

But _wait_…

_Another_ flicker, and _another_…

Soon those same soft flickers were washing over the dance floor in an array of tiny hearts, a slow tune playing to paint a pretty picture. In the center of the dance floor, Arnold couldn't believe it. No one else was paying attention, all in their own little world at the snack bar or getting their picture taken, leaving this one, singular spot secluded, just for the two of them.

_"Cecile?"_

"_Ar_-nold." There came that interesting accent, causing a small, nostalgic smile from Arnold himself.

"Is that really you? Am I…imagining things?"

"I…are you happy to see me?"

"I…don't know, Cecile, it's just-" His thoughts speaking for themselves, it wasn't as though he weren't _happy_ to see Cecile, just _confused_ more than anything.

_"Arnold, dance with me."_ She almost whispered, attempting to hide the desperation in her tone.

"I…I can't. Not until I, _know_ who you are."

"What…what do you mean?" And there it was, that soft tone that came out from under Cecile's accent every so often, that made Arnold all the more intrigued, but also suspicious, and most of all, _curious_.

"_Cecile_, how did you even get here?"

Despite Arnold's previous claim, he had found himself placing his hands on her upper waist, where it was proper to dance, as her shaky arms nervously lowered onto his shoulders, following suit, while the hands of said shaky arms were lowered, trying their best to remain graceful sitting atop his shoulders, just barely brushing his neck and hairline.

And that's when they began their dance, Arnold's eyebrow raised, reminding Helga of the April Fool's Dance, just a tinge of embarrassment coming to her cheeks. "I…like I said, I can't tell you who I am." Her voice plain as day, Arnold was peering into her eyes, searching… just searching.

Then, suddenly, just as quickly as the curiosity had arrived, it had also disappeared, his expression dropping to a relaxed smile, eyelids drooping downward in all of their half-lidded glory, for the girl before him. "You know, it's been a while since i've seen you Cecile, and i've…grown up a little since then. You may even say, I forgive you for what happened."

_Forgive me? Was he being serious?_ Helga's thoughts screamed to her from under her veil. God, Arnold thought he was such a noble steed! So _far_ along his own moral compass to _realize_ that she didn't exactly need his APPROVAL or rather, _forgiveness _for what happened. What _WAS_ he so SMUG about anyway?

Not realizing her hidden personality coming out to say _hello_, however, amongst her coupled secret thoughts of judgement, she murmured out sarcastically. "Oh, wow, _thanks_." Only to retrace her steps both mentally and physically, seeing as she involuntarily began backing up with her dancing heels as well, nearly tripping backwards.

It was then, without realizing, that they were suddenly doing the tango, the music having switched up a notch as a new musician took up the stage. "I, I mean-" She sputtered out, but it was too late. Arnold had that dreaded _smirk_ on his face and he was taking her all over the dance floor, gripping her waist and wrist so very _tightly_ as they danced in union, dipping her back and causing her to nearly have a heart attack.

_"Monsieur!"_ She squeaked. "Too fast - you're going _too fast!_" If she wasn't too careful, she was sure she would end up punching Arnoldo's lights out. What could she say? He just _brought_ it right back out of her, I guess, with his _infuriating_ little mind tricks. And she thought _she_ was bad. Is this how he had treated _Lila_, and all the other girls? Well no wonder he was dateless! _Criminey!_

"Don't do the tango back in France, huh?" Arnold had no idea what was going on with him, but he just couldn't stop. He knew that Cecile wasn't who she said she was, but why was he feeling so…just so, like he had to do this? Had to get _BACK_ at her somehow?

But his thoughts of course were interrupted, by the speechless look on Cecile's face, looking almost as though she were crying out for help, as her eyes wandered off to the snack bar far behind them, searching for her best friend, Arnold just barely noticing this behavior, as his eyes wandered with her own.

PHOEBE….PHOEBE, SAVE ME!

_Back on the other side of the bar._

"Did you guys hear something?" Came a peep from the short, dark-haired girl.

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_Side-note: Kudos to anyone who caught onto the possibility of the punch being spiked. I have this inside joke in my head that when they made the punch at Sheena's house, somehow a little bit of cannabis was mixed in, but it's more of a joke than an actual reality, kind of similar to the show and it's style with all the hidden adult related jokes. Considering that Sheena is sort of a hippie type, I figured I couldn't rule out her parents being pot heads. I also always have these perfectly hilarious visions in my head, like the instance of Harvey popping up in Arnold's head out of the blue. Just seems to fit the surrealism sort of feel that's Hey Arnold. With all that being said, hope you guys enjoyed and keep on reading! If any part of my story seems inconsistent, like the writing style or the transitioning back and forth from character to character, it's because this is a first for me and I may go back and edit it a little bit from time to time. As usual, thank you for reading._


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